


Drown Me Out

by gingerbatch33



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dry Humping, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Husbands in love, Injured John, Insecure Sherlock, Kissing, Love, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Smut, Not Beta Read, Parentlock, Post S4, Sad Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 23:35:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9351428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingerbatch33/pseuds/gingerbatch33
Summary: Set a few months after Rosie turned 16. John wants to attend a medical conference in America but he leaves Sherlock and Rosie behind so he can be alone for a while. Sherlock has a hard time coping and to his horror it gets even worse.





	1. John

**Author's Note:**

> Had a lot of fun with this one! All I wanted to do was to create some Rosie and Sherlock stuff and hurt them as kindly as possible because that’s what I do in my head. I just like to think about their relationship and how they would look after each other...
> 
> I hope you can look past my incapacity of writing something that’s not crab so you can enjoy it anyway. I am not a writer and English is not my first language... So there might be a lot of mistakes! (I don’t have a beta reader)

John was exhausted. All he wanted to do was to get out of this bloody hall and get back to his hotel room where he could get some sleep. His body hadn’t adjusted to the current time zone yet and the pain in his leg felt terrible after the flight from London to Los Angeles. He had been gone for four days and Sherlock still hadn’t tried to get in contact with him. Rosie had phoned him last night when her clock read six in the morning. She had been on her way to school but she had said that she just wanted to hear the voice of her father. It was really hard to find a time to call each other. Sherlock probably hadn’t been able to call because of a case, John was sure of it. 

The reason why John wasn’t in London was the medical conference he was currently sitting in. John’s hospital had insisted that a team of Doctors and Surgeons would attend this conference which would be held in Los Angeles and John had been fine with it when they had chosen him. 

When John had arrived he had been confronted with a massive timetable of conferences, talks and presentations. Had he known what he was agreeing to he would have stayed in London. It was tedious. The college the conference was held in was way too small for the massive crowd they had invited and John felt cramped in every single lecture hall he had to sit in. 

John, who was looking forward to get this conference over with, claimed a chair in the very back of the room for himself so he could leave as fast as possible. The light dimmed and he prepared himself for another long hour. 

John tried to follow the speaker as he talked about a ‘new innovative flu shot’ they were working on as he felt his phone vibrate. Slowly and trying not to get caught John took his phone out of his trouser pocket and studied the display. He felt panic rise in his chest as he saw the name on it and he left everything where it was as he stood up and left the lecture hall.

“What happened? Who’s hurt?!” John asked instantly as he held the phone to his ear.

“Good morning to you too, Dad! Did you sleep well?”

“Is this an emergency or is it not, Rosamund? I’ve told you that you shouldn’t phone me during the day except it is an emergency!” John felt how the adrenalin that had threatened to come up left his body.

Rosie stayed quiet. She clearly was hesitating. “It’s... No one is injured or suffers blood loss. But- Dad, I think Sherlock isn’t feeling very well.”

John felt confused. “How so?” 

“Well... I thought he was on a case. I hadn’t seen him for days so I just prepared meals for him for the event that he would come home late. But they stayed untouched. I hadn’t been looking for him but...” Rosie said and sounded quite unsure and afraid. “Well, I found him in the bed and I don’t think he has left it since you left days ago. I’m beginning to feel panicked. He doesn’t eat at all and I don’t think he even took a shower.” Rosie said with concern in her voice.

John walked to the next bench in the corridor and sat down as she was talking. Sherlock had changed a lot in the last year that they were now living together. Rosie never knew the Sherlock who rarely slept and who had to be forced to eat something. The scene his daughter was describing didn’t sound like his husband of today.

“Is he asleep right now?”

John could hear as Rosie began to walk down the stairs. She had to be in her room. “Let me check.”

When she spoke again her voice was hushed. “I don’t think that he is asleep. Could be that he learned to sleep with his eyes open but I can’t be sure.” Rosie joked but a moment later her voice got serious again. “He’s... just staring at the wall, Dad! What should I do?!”

John could hear that Rosie had no idea how to handle this situation even though she and Sherlock had a good relationship. In most situations she knew how to handle his new husband but she had no clue how he was years ago when she hadn’t been born yet. Often John thought about the day he had told his daughter that his feelings for Sherlock had changed over the years and that he felt differently about him. He tried to explain something not even John himself understood but his daughter had left him speechless as her only response had been: “Finally! Took you long enough.” That was over two years ago. After that conversation John and Sherlock got married and Rosie turned 16 last month. God, where had time flown? 

“Could you give him your mobile phone? I’d like to talk to him.” John said.

John could hear his daughter’s faint voice as she spoke to Sherlock and pushed her phone into his hands.

“John? What happened?” Sherlock ask innocently. 

“Yeah... I wanted to ask you the same thing, honey.”

“Oh you know the usual. One or two cases, violin, tea.” Sherlock said and stretched the last syllable to its fullest. To John he sounded a bit snappy. 

John took a few deep breaths and waited until Sherlock would talk on, but he didn’t.

“Sherlock... Why are you lying to me?”

“What?! I’m not lying John! Why would I do such a thing?”

John had barked an angry laugh. “I don’t know Sherlock! You tell me. All I know is that my daughter is worried about a person who has hidden himself in his room and that for four days!”

John heard a rustling sound. Sherlock must have risen from his lying position.

“So...” Sherlock began and his hissing voice got louder and louder with each word he spoke. “Go and tell your daughter she can stay out of my life and she can mind her own business! And she can do all of that outside of my room! LEAVE ME ALONE!” 

John didn’t know if the last part was meant for Rosie or for him but it hurt to hear those words either way. Sherlock’s voice suddenly fell silent and John heard Rosie who yelled “Hey!” accompanied with the sound of a phone colliding with a body. John concluded from the following sounds that Rosie must have slammed the door to his and Sherlock’s room shut and stamped away from it.

“Such a drama queen!” Rosie yelled.

Under normal circumstances John would have felt like laughing when Rosie and Sherlock had one of their arguments but after this short and terrible conversation with his husband he could just manage a tired smile as he listened to Rosie’s angry protests. “- it’s not even that he did any hard work! No! He’s just too lazy and won’t even help to make dinner! God!! Are you even listening to me Dad?!”

“’course I am.” Said John and scratched his neck. He knew what was wrong his husband.

“Rosie, could you do me a favour?” John waited for more protests from his daughter but the line stayed silent so he just went on. “Go to the sitting room and take the cushion from my armchair. The one with the Union Jack! Not Mrs. Hudson’s! Are you there?”

“Yeah... What now?” Rosie asked.

“Bring it to Sherlock.”

John heard the opening of the door to the bedroom followed by Sherlock’s deep shouting. “Didn’t you hear me?! Piss off and-.” But he had no chance to finish his dramatic speech. John could only guess but he suspected that he got interrupted by the pillow that hit him in the face. 

“No swearwords!” Rosie reminded him sharply and asked into the phone: “Anything else?” 

“Actually, yes. You know that knitted jumper that Sherlock likes to complain about?”

“You mean the awful one?” Rosie said in a serious voice. 

“Oh shut up! It should be in the left drawer! And for your own good, don’t open the one on the right!”

“Ugh gross!! Dad!! Too much information!”

John had to laugh out loud. “Just do as I said, alright?” 

Rosie’s voice got quieter as she held the phone away and started to speak to Sherlock. “Here put this on!”

“John’s jumper? Why should I do that?”

“I don’t know, Sherlock. Deduce it! All I know is that your husband said I should do it.” Rosie said and closed the door.

John stood up and walked back to the entrance of the lecture hall. “All done, Rosie?”

“Yes. As you said.” She answered. She kept quiet but John could feel the questions she wanted to ask. “Is he... missing you, Dad?”

John laughed silently. “Yeah he does. Hard to believe isn’t it?”

“It’s Sherlock... everything is hard to believe when it comes to him.” Rosie murmured. “I didn’t even hear him. I thought I was alone at home...”

John smiled. “You know, if Sherlock doesn’t want to be found he is incredibly good in shutting his mouth.” John said to comfort his daughter. “I have to get back into the lecture. I really miss you both! And it’s not your fault, yeah?”

“Alright. Love you too, Dad. Hear you tonight?”

“Of course!” And with that they hung up.


	2. Rosie

“Sherlock! Dinner’s ready!” Rosie yelled as she poured two cups of tea and muttered to herself. “Not that you would care.”

But to Rosie’s astonishment the door to his Dad’s and Sherlock’s bedroom opened and a grumpy Sherlock entered the kitchen. He looked awful. His dark locks were an absolute mess and he needed a shower. He still wore the same baggy pyjama pants as when she had been in his room but now he wore John’s knitted jumper she had given to him just a few hours ago. His slim hands were covered by the sleeves of the jumper as he held them tight with his fingers. 

His naked feet touched the linoleum of the kitchen as he walked to the kitchen counter where Rosie was standing. “I’d like to apologize.” He murmured.

“Oh, do you?” Rosie asked sceptical but with humour in her voice.

Sherlock nodded. He began to lean over her small frame to get a hand around one of the tea cups but he got blocked by her. Sherlock’s face showed a puzzled and offended expression.

“You said you wanted to apologize?” Rosie asked and crossed her arms over her chest.

Sherlock crooked his head. “I just did.”

Rosie had to laugh and shook her head. “No you really didn’t Sherlock. Try again and this time, say why you are sorry. Because that’s how you do it.” She whispered the last part.

“I’m... sorry I yelled at you... even though you did nothing wrong?” Sherlock shyly said but it sounded more like a question. 

Rosie nodded in approval and handed Sherlock one of the streaming cups filled with milky tea. With quick hands she prepared two dishes of pasta with sauce and pushed one of the plates into Sherlock’s free hand. He looked like he didn’t know how to handle himself.

“Don’t look like you have no idea what this is! Just come and sit on the sofa with me.” Rosie said and switched the telly on as she went into the sitting room. Sherlock followed her and sat on the other end of the sofa.

The two ate in silence and watched some crab telly but neither of them really followed it. Slowly it got darker and darker outside so Rosie began to clean away the mess in the kitchen as Sherlock sat down at the kitchen table.

“You gonna play with you microscope?” Rosie asked lightly as she began to clean the pan she had just used to cook their meal.

“You know exactly it’s not ‘playing’ what I’m doing here.” Sherlock hissed as he prepared the equipment he would need. “So don’t-.“ He stopped abruptly and stayed quiet. “God I don’t even want to snap... I’m so sorry!”

Rosie turned to where Sherlock was sitting and saw how he hid his face in both of his hands. She placed the pan on the dish rack and stepped behind him. Carefully, so she wouldn’t disturb the man, she enclosed him into a warm hug and placed her own head on his. From this position she could see the grey hairs which had begun to grow on his head. She liked to tease him with them but she secretly liked those few hairs very much. It showed her that he wasn’t perfect in every way like her father tries to tell her every once in a while.

Sherlock placed his warm hand on her shoulder. “Thank you.” He whispered. 

She began to step away from him. “That’s okay.” She ruffled his hair. “God, you really need a shower. They’re so greasy!”

Sherlock made a vague gesture next to his head as if he tried to slap her hand away but it looked more like he was trying to shoo away a fly. “Leave and... do teenage stuff!” 

Rosie laughed as she left the kitchen but stopped at the sliding door. “Should I do my school work down here or would that distract you?”

Sherlock’s mouth tipped up on one side “No, I’d like that very much.”

Rosie smiled as she took the stairs two at a time. She searched her room for her bag she had disposed here as she had come back from school a few hours ago. She snatched another pen and one of her schoolbooks from her nightstand, pushed them into the bag and went back downstairs.

As she entered the sitting room she went straight to her Dad’s armchair and turned it into the direction of the kitchen so she would be able to look at Sherlock while she was studying. 

“Your Dad wouldn’t like that, you know?” Sherlock murmured as he observed the now sitting Rosie out of the corner of his eyes. One of her legs lay on the armrest of the armchair and the other was close to her body with her foot on the seat. 

“Well then he shouldn’t have left us.” She said as she opened her textbook and began to read in it.

“I suppose not.” Sherlock said as he looked into his microscope. 

Rosie loved the time she could spend with Sherlock. On some days when he would be working on his experiments she would sit close by and have her nose in a textbook or in a novel. They rarely said a word when they were deep in concentration and only spoke when she had a question about a tough subject or thanked John for bringing them tea. Sometime Sherlock would check her answers and correct them without saying a single word as he went looking for a new petri dish.

Sherlock was just about to drop a substance on god knew what as the sound of Sherlock’s phone broke the silence. Reflexively Rosie looked up from her textbook to tell him to answer his phone. She was used to a Sherlock who couldn’t be bothered to switch it to silent mode or even answer it by himself when it was ringing but this time he had the phone in his hand before she could even say a word.

“Yes?” Sherlock simply said.

Rosie kept looking at Sherlock who wouldn’t either move or say a word. It felt bizarre to see him not moving while on the phone. She could hear a faint sound of a female talking to Sherlock but he didn’t answer as the voice fell silent. The sound of the mobile phone hitting the floor and Sherlock’s arm landing on the table was the loudest sound Rosie ever heard in this flat. She sprang from her place on the armchair and ran into the kitchen to fish for the phone under the table.

“Hello? Rosie Watson here?” She said as she held the phone to her ear.

“Good day Ms. Watson. Are you related to a... Let me look that up... A John Hamish Watson?” the female voice asked calmly.

“Yes, he’s my father.” She answered and looked into Sherlock’s face. He was white as snow and didn’t move one single muscle. 

“Miss, I’m sorry to tell you that Mr. Watson was involved into an accident this afternoon around 12 o’clock. He is currently in surgery and-.”

Rosie felt like a bucket of ice cold water had suddenly been poured over her head. She looked into Sherlock’s face to seek help in this situation as the woman on the other side of the phone talked but he looked like he wasn’t really here. He looked like a statue with one of his arms still holding a pipette and his eyes unmoving. Rosie began to shake his shoulders and could just see how slowly but steadily fluid was dripping from the end of the pipette onto his hand on the table.

With her sleeves over her own hand as protection she took the pipette from his thin fingers and tried to push her free hand under his armpit to bring him to stand up. He followed her on autopilot and walked with her to the sink where she held his hand under the cold water from the tab. 

“Wait what?!” Rosie tried to shake herself. She tried to stay calm as silent tears of panic ran down her face. “Excuse me but I didn’t catch that! Could you repeat the last part?” 

“I said that you should probably come to the hospital. Should I repeat the address?” 

“I live in fucking England!! How the hell should I get to America?!” Rosie shrieked. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to yell...” Rosie pinned the phone between her shoulder and her head as she stretched to fetch a pen and a newspaper from the kitchen table. 

“The address is?” Rosie asked with a shaking voice as she wrote it just in case on the edge of the cover of the newspaper down.

The woman said something about insurances but Rosie wasn’t listening anymore because she took a look at the chemical burn. Sherlock’s skin on his hand had turned an angry red. She had no idea what else to do because her father had only taught her the simple steps after such an incident. She just hoped the substance hadn’t been that bad.

“I have to end this call now, Miss. Is someone with you? I have to make sure you aren’t alone.” The woman asked.

Rosie looked at the lifeless shell in front of her. “Yes I’m not alone. Thank you for calling.” She said and threw the phone on the kitchen table. 

“Sherlock talk to me!” Rosie said with tears in her eyes but Sherlock still stared at the wall in front of him.

“Sherlock! Please!” 

Rosie carefully laid the injured arm on the edge of the sink and ran into the bathroom where she knew the first aid kit was. She took everything she needed and went back to Sherlock where she pulled his arm from under the water and covered the wound with a clean bandage. Sherlock’s hand twitched as she touched his wound to make sure the dressing would hold.

“Oh god.” Sherlock simply said with his deep voice as he came out of his head.

Rosie looked up into Sherlock’s face and when she saw that he was looking just as horrified as she felt she hid her tear covered face in his chest and wound her arms around him. He lifted his own arms and covered her small frame with them.

Rosie cried silent tears as Sherlock protectively held her head against his chest. He placed a kiss on her forehead and reached for his phone on the table.

“Mycroft I need a plane ticket for the next flight from Heathrow to LAX. Tonight!” Sherlock said into the phone as he tried to place his chin on her head but got interrupted. Rosie starred furiously at Sherlock’s face.

“Did you just think about going alone to see my DAD?!” Rosie said with a calm voice that turned into an ice cold screech.

“Mycroft... Make that two tickets... What?! No, I’m not looking out to a vacation! John had an accident you sodding idiot!” Sherlock roared and waited. “That would be helpful. Thank you.”

Sherlock brought his arm with the phone back to Rosie’s back and squeezed her. “Cap’s here in ten and the plane leaves in an hour or so. Go and pack a bag and come back to me as quickly as possible!”


	3. Sherlock

Sherlock had no idea how to handle this situation. He knew the moment John had announced that he would attend this medical conference in Los Angeles that he should go with him. But no John had said something about being alone for a while and looking out for Rosie! Sod John’s feeling of freedom! Sherlock needed him by his side and not on the other end of the earth.

And now look what it had brought him! No, best not to think about it.

The plane seat felt horrible and Sherlock couldn’t sit still. He tried to sleep but he hadn’t been able to do that in the last few days John had been gone so Sherlock didn’t hope for a change of his sleeping circle.

The moment he was back to himself in his kitchen Sherlock had tried to be the calm and strong one of the two of them. But Sherlock was rubbish in it. Rosie was his rock and he couldn’t even deny it. Even as she was sleeping with her head cushioned on his lap he felt like Rosie was helping him and not the other way around.

Rosie always knew how to handle a situation. It was the same as they tried to leave the flat this evening. Sherlock had been standing in his room in front of John’s spare travel bag with his hands full of random pieces of underwear and he hadn’t had a clue what he should do with the stuff he was holding. So he just let them fall into the bag and tried to suppress the panic that was coming up in his chest. In that exact moment Rosie had stormed into his room, had taken one look into the bag on the bed and had started to pack various shirts and trousers for Sherlock. He had just starred at the young girl as she asked where his passport was located. He opened his mouth but couldn’t form words so he just began to blink.

“No Sherlock! Talk to me! Where is your passport?” Rosie had asked with a calm voice.

Sherlock had let his mouth snap close und tried to clear his head from all the images he had of various scenarios how John had been involved into the accident. “I think John has it in his desk?”

Rosie had unplugged Sherlock’s phone charger as she had left the room and threw it with the rest into the bag. She had run to the desk and searched the various drawers until she had found what she had been looking for.

Rosie stirred in her sleep as the plane hit a light turbulence. All Sherlock now could do was to wait till either Rosie would wake up or the plane would land.

*** 

The cab ride from the airport to the address of the hospital on the small scrap of paper took hours. Sherlock was sure of it but his phone told him that just another five minutes had passed. The second the cab stopped in front of the white building Sherlock threw a handful of notes at the driver and not caring about his loud protests about the incorrect currency. The man began to yell but Sherlock’s hand was already on the door to the hospital and waited for Rosie to go in first.

The woman at the front desk with a phone held to her ear looked horrified at the tall man with dirty hair as he walked straight to her. With one swift move he took the phone out of her hand, pushed the call button to end the conversation and threw it on the desk. The woman looked offended as she began with her protests. “Excuse me, but-.“

“I need the room of John Hamish Watson! NOW!” Sherlock yelled.

The woman took two steps back and looked around if anyone could help her with this madman. Rosie who sensed that something was wrong as she approached a few moments later stood between Sherlock and the woman.

“Good morning? Honestly, I have no idea what time it is... I’m Rosie Watson daughter of John Hamish Watson and this is Sherlock Holmes, his husband. We’d like to know is room number so we could finally know if he’s still alive or not.”

The woman’s face softened. “Oh dear. Yes of course. I just need a passport to make sure-.”

Rosie was just about to start looking for it but Sherlock was quicker as he pushed one of his hands into her bag and searched for the slim booklet. When he found it he smashed it violently on the counter and waited for the number of the room.

The woman carefully opened the first page and checked the name to make sure Rosie was the daughter of her father.

“Could you be any slower?!?” Sherlock barked who was still standing behind Rosie.

With her lips formed to a thin line the woman began to enter what he hoped would be John’s name. “Room 423 on the third floor.”

Sherlock and Rosie began to run for the lift to their right and pushed the button repeatedly. A short man next to them said chuckling. “You know, Sir, the thing won’t come any faster even if you push it like that.”

If Rosie hadn’t felt so anxious she would have laughed about the look Sherlock gave to the man who slowly stepped closer to his wife next to him.

Fortunately the door to the lift opened and Rosie pulled Sherlock into it. The couple followed. Rosie would remember this ride as one of the most awkward lift rides of her lifetime. Sherlock kept his death stare at the short man as he stood uncomfortable as close to the wall as possible. As the bell the arrival of the third floor announced Sherlock simply said: “He’s cheating with the gardener.”, and followed Rosie into the hallway. Somehow she knew where to walk to because she found the door to John’s room without any help. Just as she wanted to open it a male nurse walked out of the room and looked confused to the girl in front of him. 

“Sorry, but no visitors for this patient.” He simply said as he was about to close the door. 

“If you even think about to close that door in front of his daughter’s face, I personally will make sure you need a nurse on your own.”

The nurse swallowed nervously and looked behind himself as he heard the voice of his patient. “Sherlock?”

Sherlock shoved the man away. “Get out of my way!! I’m his bloody husband!” 

To see the love of his life on that hospital bed was the worst thing Sherlock had seen for a long time. His forehead was covered by a wrapping that went along his head and there was still a lot of blood on his face as if they hadn’t bothered to clean it. John’s left eye was swollen close and his right arm was in a wrapping, Sherlock guessed it was broken by the look of it. 

Before anyone could say a word Rosie was running into the room with the intention to hug her father, who looked like he had seen two ghosts, but she stopped herself from doing that.

Rosie was now crying freely as she watched her father from next to his bed. John lifted his arm and pulled his daughter to his chest. He ran his fingers through her blond hair and tried to calm her down. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

John looked to his husband who still was standing still just a few steps into the room. It looked like someone had clicked pause just as he was about to walk into the room. John opened his mouth to say something but Rosie spoke first. 

“I was so scared, Dad.” Rosie sniffed and looked into the face of her father. “What happened?”

John showed a tired smile and looked back at his daughter. “I can’t really remember but I left the building of the conference and suddenly there was this car, which was driving way too fast, and it was heading for this mother and that child next to her. I pushed her and the child out of the way but got myself. My face took the most of it but they had to fix my arm. Couldn’t do it with the skin closed so they had to open me up. I just woken up a few minutes ago.”

Rosie outstretched her hand and touched her father’s face. “There is still blood on your face.” She said and began to cry even harder.

Sherlock felt as his husband’s eyes landed on his and he understood his silent question. As fast as he could he went into the attached bathroom and searched for a cloth and a small bowl to fill it with water. Both found he brought it to Rosie who first didn’t understand what to do with it. Sherlock placed the cloth into the warm water and pushed it gently into Rosie’s slightly shaking hand. He surrounded Rosie’s with his own hands and guided them to John’s face. Carefully they touched the dry blood under his nose and cleaned the area.

Sherlock took a step back and watched how his husband’s face got freed of the blood. Each time she held the cloth into the bowl the clean water turned more to a red colour and it got harder for Sherlock to watch. Slowly he sank down to the chair that was furthest from the scene in front of him and tried to slow down his beating heart that hadn’t stop to race since the moment he held that phone in his hand. 

He didn’t know how long it took to clean John’s face but suddenly Rosie was standing in front of him and she was softly shaking his shoulder. His head shot up and starred into her tired but smiling face. “You feeling okay?” She asked quietly but Sherlock didn’t know the answer to this question. He felt like throwing up but he suspected that nothing would come out. 

He closed his eyes and simply nodded. Satisfied with the answer Rosie went into the bathroom. 

Sherlock observed that John had closed his eyes and his breathing had slowed down as he sat down in the chair Rosie had occupied a few moments ago. All he wanted to do as he let his eyes roam over John’s body was to hold his hand but he didn’t dare to disturb the sleeping man. The risk of hurting him by touching an injured part of his body was too high to risk it just to satisfy his own cravings. 

Rosie walked carefully, so she wouldn’t make any loud noises, into the room and folded herself onto the armchair in the corner of the room. Slowly and covered by Sherlock’s coat she had grabbed on the way she fell asleep. Sherlock could watch Rosie and John sleep for hours. There was something comforting to hear the faint deep breaths of the two people he cared most in this world. He knew that there was no chance for him to fall asleep tonight so he began to keep an eye on both of them.

***

Sherlock had lost all meaning of time so it could have been minutes or hours since anybody in this room had last moved or said a word. The silence was broken by a voice and Sherlock’s body flinching.

“Is that my jumper you’re wearing?”

Sherlock starred at John who looked with sleepy eyes back at him. Any other day he would have kissed that face had he seen those eyes still clouded of sleep but now there was something fragile in it. He just wanted everything to be okay.

Sherlock nodded.

“Why are you wearing that?” John smiled.

“I-.” Sherlock began but he had to stop again. He had no idea how to form sentences. He hadn’t said one single word since he had entered the hospital room. And to break his silence after such a long time somehow hurt. “Rosie- well.... You gave it to me.”

John looked confused. “But why are you still wearing it?”

Sherlock stayed silent and looked away. The room was once again filled with deafening silence.

“What happened yesterday when Rosie phoned me?” John asked quietly. ”I haven’t seen you like that for a long time, in fact many years. You used to have this depressed phases when we had been living together and neither Mary nor Rosie had happened.” John whispered to not wake the sleeping Rosie in the corner.

“It didn’t feel like you were working because I know when you are working I can phone you at any moment and you would answer the phone.” Sherlock said as fast as he could.

John looked confused and obviously didn’t understand what he was trying to say. Sherlock took a deep breath. “I knew you were on that plane out of free will. You wanted to be in it and you looked forward to this conference. You didn’t want me next to you. For so many hours I sat in front of my phone but you didn’t call me and you said you weren’t allowed to talk at every minute of the day so I just waited to get a call from you.... But you didn’t! I felt so lonely even though Rosie was in the same building as me.” Sherlock whispered brokenly.

“I was so alone for such a long time. I didn’t want to feel like that again. You, not in the same house as me. I just couldn’t do it anymore! I didn’t realise it until you were in that plane and I had to drive back into our flat alone. I felt so alone! I didn’t want to tell you because I don’t want you to feel obligated to not leave me but-.” Sherlock had to stop as tears fell down his cheeks. “Please never leave me again John!”

John stretched his arm and tried to get his hands on Sherlock but he was too far away where he was sitting.

“Please come to me, honey.” John begged quietly.

Sherlock stood from his chair he had been occupying for such a long time and awkwardly stood in front of the bed. “Where are you hurting?” he asked with a hushed voice.

“Mainly head and arm.”

“May I... Touch you?”

John patted the bed with his uninjured hand and Sherlock carefully sat down. He took John’s hand in his and stroked his thumb over John’s lightly bloody knuckles. Sherlock could feel John’s eyes on his face but all he cared at the moment was his hand which finally was touching John. With horror he watched as John’s hand slipped from his fingers. He just wanted to retreat himself from the rejection as he saw how John’s hand moved to Sherlock’s cheeks. As he felt the first brush of John’s fingers on his skin he pushed into the touch and turned his face so he could hold his dry lips to the inside of John’s hand. It wasn’t quite a kiss but it was enough for the moment. The last thing Sherlock wanted to do was hurt John in anyway. 

“I was so scared.” Sherlock whispered.

John’s hand grabbed the fabric of his knitted jumper and pulled. Now they were so close they noses nearly touched but Sherlock didn’t want to risk anything at all so he kept a safe distance.

“If you don’t sit on my lap and kiss me this instant I’ll get quite grumpy.” John breathed.

Sherlock’s eyes popped open and he starred into John’s injured face. Slowly he put his right knee next to John’s hip and carefully placed his other leg on the other side. Without pushing too much of his weight on John’s injured body he leaned down. Their noses brushed again and for Sherlock it felt like they were breathing the same air as he felt John’s heat on his lips. If he could get just a bit closer he would be kissing him. The decision was taken away from him as John pushed himself on his uninjured elbow and crushed their lips together. 

It felt like the first breath after being too long under the water. John’s scent felt like home and even the aggressive smell of hospital couldn’t take that away from Sherlock. Their lips moved against each other and after a little while John began to nip lightly on his bottom lip. John’s tongue bumped against Sherlock’s lips and he opened his mouth to let it enter. At the first touch of their tongues Sherlock couldn’t hold himself back. He dived into it. He grabbed John’s hair and let his hands sink into it. John’s uninjured hand grabbed Sherlock’s leg and held him in place. John was grabbing with such force Sherlock was sure John would leave marks on them. The pure thought of it made his cock jerk in his trousers. 

Sherlock could hear a faint whine but he couldn’t be sure if it came out of his throat or if it was John but frankly he didn’t care. He just tried to dive deeper into John’s mouth and to suck on his lips at the same time. Sherlock could feel a stretching in his abdomen and he wanted more. He wanted to get closer. His hips moved out of free will and began to roll against John but he was stopped by a groan from John. Sherlock flinched, wrenched his hands out of John’s hair and lifted his hips so he wasn’t touching John in anyway.

Sherlock rapidly searched John’s body with his eyes for the source of the pain but he could see any indignation for a reopened wound or the like. At last, Sherlock’s eyes landed on John’s highly injured face and saw a look of confusion and something he suspected had to be pain. 

“Why did you pull away?” John whined and tried to get Sherlock’s face back to where it was just seconds ago.

“I hurt you!” Sherlock said distressed and stopped John’s hand which was pulling on his jumper.

“You didn’t hurt me, you bloody idiot! You humped against my erection!” John protested rather loudly.

The sound of Rosie stirring and fabric landing on the floor stopped their argument. They stayed absolutely still, starred at each other and waited. Sherlock’s head turned slowly to the direction where Rosie had been sleeping for the last two hours.

The girl starred at Sherlock’s face, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I... just go outside and try to forget that ever happened.” Rosie said with a horrified voice.

Sherlock pressed his eyes together, nodded and said: “There is money in my coat.”, but Rosie had already left the room. He felt his face begin to blush and the shame of being caught by the daughter of the man he just wanted to fuck overtook him. He covered his face with his hand, pushed it into John’s soft belly and let out a loud groan of frustration.

Slowly John’s body began to shake and Sherlock moved his head so he could peek through his fingers. John was chuckling silently and when they exchanged glances he began to laugh in earnest. He threw his head back and laughed as loud as he could.

Sherlock looked up at his husband and didn’t know what to say. “Why are you laughing?!” he said and moved his body so he was on his hands and knees. In this position Sherlock had John’s head cages between his arms. 

“You just dry humped me in front of my bloody daughter! God we are mad!” John said though his laugher.

Sherlock had to smile even though he felt miserable. “I’m horrible!” he whined as he let his head sink so John could kiss his neck. “No, John! I need to find her!” 

Sherlock took a deep breath and climbed off John. John pushed his lip out and started to pout. Sherlock let out a sigh and went to the door but he stopped and returned to John’s bed. Slowly he dived in for one last kiss. 

“I love you so much, John.” He said with his deep voice.

John only smiled back at him.

Sherlock walked back to the door and opened it just to find Rosie standing right in front of him.

“I get that book which I tried to convince you to buy me and we won’t ever talk about the stuff in there. Deal?” Rosie said with a firm voice. 

“Deal!” Sherlock replied without thinking.

“Deal!” yelled John from behind them.


End file.
